Heroes: Hunting
by Skyelah
Summary: Call me Wynn. Don't bother asking where I came from, because I couldn't tell you even if I did know. I work for the Company, tracking escapees. I'm the best there is at what I do. And now, I'm supposed to find 'him'. It's my job. Who would've though that doing my job could be so hard? Spin-off in collaboration with Gabriel12345 and his OC, Danny. Set post-s1 through 1x23
1. Chapter 1

It was a testament to just how pissed off I was that everyone I passed in the halls sprang out of my way. I had a reputation with the rest of the Company agents as being slightly bad tempered on the best of days, but this was something entirely different, and they all knew it. The air around me rippled – and I mean that quite literally. The air fluctuated between a gaseous state and liquid, pooling around me in a dense cloud of anger. That power was hard enough to control at the best of times, but I knew better than anyone how easily emotions could get in the way.

My combat boots stamped ominously across the tiled floors as I headed deeper into the Company, towards the executive offices. I needed to speak to my superiors, one of them in particular, and give him a piece of my mind. Thankfully, the office door was open. It freaked everyone out when I liquefied their doors, and they were a pain in the ass to replace every time.

He was standing in his office with his back to me, phone to his ear. Clearly, something was going down because his voice was low, quick and urgent as he pleaded with someone on the other end. I didn't care. "What the hell, Bennet!"

"I understand, sir." Noah Bennet ignored me, which did nothing to ease my fuming. He simply raised a patient hand, telling me to wait. "Yes. I'm right on top of the situation... Yes, sir. Not to worry. Bye." He hung up, snapping his cell phone shut with a sigh. Stuffing it into the pocket of his suit jacket, he turned to look me in the eye. Behind his horn-rimmed glasses, his eyes were tired. "That's sir to you, Agent Ranvire."

"Don't give me that crap, _sir_," I spat the formality back at him. "Did I, or did I not, specifically request not to be disturbed this evening?" Noah raised an eyebrow but said nothing, choosing instead to take a seat in his desk chair. He indicated another chair with his hand, and I sat with a groan. "I had a date, Bennet. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to get one of those?"

"As much as I encourage the notion of you having a life outside this Company, know that I wouldn't have pulled you away from it unless it wasn't absolutely important." It was hard to argue with him, with his patient tone and the almost earnest expression in his eyes. I slumped into the chair further, sighing as the air around me returned to its natural state of matter.

"Yeah, I know." Being practically married to the job really sucked sometimes. At least I knew that what I was doing was important. "Sorry. What's shaking in the world of the freaky and the unexplained?"

"We've had... an escape." Noah sounded almost embarrassed, and his eyes dropped, but I sat bolt upright in my seat, all reluctance and anger forgotten.

"Not Level 5..."

"No!" Noah was quick to cut me off, to reassure me. I sank into my seat again, with relief this time. Good. I had helped put some of those scum bags away, and the idea of any one of them out roaming New York again was absolutely terrifying. "No, not quite as bad as that. He is an asset to us, though, and very, very powerful. We need to get him back."

"So retrieve him. Send your Haitian, or whatever, block his powers so he can't run. I don't see why you need me for this one." If they were just calling me in now, that meant whoever this special was couldn't have been missing for very long. There was no way they could have made it very far. There was no reason why they would need me to track them.

"You underestimate this one, Agent Ranvire. He is very powerful. And he has the potential to become very dangerous to us." Noah leaned forward in his chair, resting his forearms on his desk. His face was deadly serious. "He managed to escape our custody twice. We have no idea where he is, or how to find him. We need you. You have an infallible track record when it comes to bringing in wanted specials. No one else in this Company has the ability you do."

I sighed out loud. So this was about my psychometry. After my gift to manipulate the states of matter had developed, I had vowed never to use psychometry again if I could help it. The memories that were associated with some of the things I touched were too painful for even me to cope with, most of the time. "Noah..." I slipped into the habit of calling him by his first name as I turned my eyes to his face, filled with pained reluctance. He knew from my gaze that I would do what he wanted, but I didn't want to. Noah's expression softened a little bit.

"Wynn..." We rarely used each other's first names anymore, not since I had stopped being the little girl raised by the Company and had become an agent, but he slipped into easily now. "You know that I wouldn't ask... unless there was no other option." I couldn't doubt this honesty, not when he looked at me like that.

"Show me the file."

From a pile on his desk, Noah withdrew a large manila folder and handed it over to me. I quickly flipped it open. A photograph of a young man with dark brown hair and green eyes stared back at me. "Daniel McKniel?" I read, glancing up at Noah for confirmation. When he nodded, I returned my gaze to the file. It was the usual; birth date, age, education, history of employment... My heart sank a little at the record of his family. Mother: Marie Kennedy. "He's Marie's kid?"

Noah nodded. "That's why we need him back, Wynn. You knew her better than anyone else; you know that it's what Marie would have wanted." I sighed, frowning down at the file. Going after someone so young was bad enough, but adding in the fact that he was the son of my old mentor... I had to do my job, though. The rest of the file was pretty standard, with no other surprises, until I came to his Abilities: Empathic Replication.

"Fuck me," I breathed. Noah frowned at my language, and I stared up at him incredulously. "You're sending me after an empath? Noah, that's suicide! I don't stand a chance against him! Who knows what powers he's got amassed..."

"We do," Noah interrupted me. "He's fairly new to his abilities, and he's barely even begun to recognize most of them. He doesn't even know what he can do yet. As far as we know, he's only obtained superhuman reflexes at this time. Just like his mother. You're more than a match for him, Agent."

"As far as you know..." I groaned. "And now you've lost him. You don't know anymore, Noah, and that's the problem. I'll be annihilated. And I'll be damned if I let him add my abilities to his collection."

"He needs to touch someone in order to replicate their power, Wynn. Wear long sleeves and gloves, you'll be fine." A trace of humor made its way into Noah's voice, but his expression remained serious. "You're our best tracker. If anyone can find him, it's you. I have complete faith in you."

"So ... You want me to find this guy without ever touching him ... Using an ability that relies entirely on touch to function." I restated with a wry frown. Noah smiled.

"Did I mention that I have complete faith in you?"

I sighed and rose to my feet, tossing the manila folder back onto Noah's desk. "You're absolutely nuts, you know that, right? I'll do it."

"Excellent. We're pairing you with Agent Gudbrand for this mission," Noah informed her. "He'll be waiting for you outside your apartment in approximately an hour." Gudbrand. I remembered him. A little trigger-happy, but a capable agent... for a normal. "Do me proud, okay, Wynn? Bring him in quickly, and with as little mess as possible." I rolled my eyes at Noah, turning on the heel of my combat boots before exiting his office.

"Don't wait up for me, sweetheart."

* * *

To call the place I lived in an apartment, or even a 'bachelor sized suite', as my landlord did, would have been a massive overstatement. I tended to use the term broom closet. There was a bathroom and a bedroom and a kitchen, all clumped together in a space that was not much bigger then Noah's office back at the Company. So, not surprisingly, I didn't have much stuff lying around to pack up for my unexpected 'vacation'.

I threw clothes into a duffel bag – I didn't give a damn about tidiness when I could just sort through everything again later – and some toiletries. And my conditioner. Some of the male agents had a tendency to make fun of me for it, but I never travelled anywhere without conditioner. I'd make fun right back at them when their unhealthy and unattractive mops crumbled to un-moisturized dust. I didn't have much by the way of personal keepsakes, but a few things always managed to make it into my travel bag – a tiny wooden music box that had been my first ever present, and a tattered woolen blanket to ragged for use. It was the blanket that, supposedly, I had been found wrapped in.

I never knew my parents. All I knew is that I was left outside a homeless shelter when I was 6 months old. Before that, no one could tell me who had been raising me, or if they were my real parents, or even who they were. The vagabonds on the street became my family before the Company, and I suppose I'd always had a soft spot for them. I would have visited, maybe even done something with my better-to-do lifestyle to help them, except that I couldn't face the pain. I couldn't touch any of them without seeing every heartbreaking moment of their sad histories. I didn't have any choice but to stay away.

As I passed over every item in my room, I managed to snag my phone off of the counter in my tiny kitchen. My most recent missed call came from a new number, one that I had only added the night before. My blind date. I side, pressing down on the delete button. So much for romance. It had been going so well, too, until Noah had called right in the middle of our dinner, and I had had to sprint out of there with hardly so much as "Sorry, work." Poor guy had looked so confused, and heartbreakingly adorable. Peter, his name was. He was a sweet guy, and a nurse to boot – I was a sucker for the self-sacrificing ones. Too bad it would never work out.

From down on street level, someone honked. I stuffed the blanket unceremoniously into the duffel bag, whirling around at the same time to peek out the tiny window that gave me a street view. A non-descript and stereotypical black sedan was parked on the curb outside my building, and leaning against the passenger door, staring up at me, was a man dressed in the typical Company uniform. I shouldered my duffel bag and took one last sweeping glance around my room. The final jingle of my keys as I locked my room for what could be the last time sounded almost ominous, but I didn't pay it any mind. I had a job to do.

* * *

"I was worried you weren't coming." The agent's voice was gruff and hoarse, and he shifted to straighten his suit jacket as I approached him from the sidewalk.

"No chance of keeping me out of this one, Agent." I attempted a smile. "Bennet assigned me himself, and you know how he gets when he's not getting what he wants. I almost didn't have a choice."

He whistled once. "Bennet, huh?" His eyes were appraising as I drew eye level with him... Well, not so much eye level. He was short – really short. His head couldn't come any higher than my shoulders, and seeing as I was only 5'2, that really wasn't saying all too much. His mud brown hair, what was left of it, was carefully arranged and as pristine as his suit. Very secret-agent man. "You're higher up in the food chain than I was led to believe, Agent Ranvire."

"Wynn," I insisted. "Agent Wynn, if you must. But if we're going to be partners, we might as well be friendly." His small, unenthusiastic smile faltered for just a moment, before appearing, practiced, back on his face.

"Walter Gudbrand." He held out a hand for me to take.

"It's a pleasure, Walter." I smirked. "And in all honestly, I'm not that much higher in the food chain than you have been led to believe. I just have very important friends." A warning and an invitation all at once. If Agent Gudbrand worked this assignment right, I could use my connections to move him up in the Company. If not... well, the opposite was just a phone call away. 'Walter' took my not-so-subtle hint in surprisingly good stride.

"I suppose, then, Age-... Wynn," he placed heavy emphasis on my name, "that you would like to take point on this one?"

"Partners, Walter," I insisted. "No one's taking point here." I dropped his hand as quickly as he dropped mine. There was a very tense moment of silence between the two of us until I, cracking a grin, broke it. "Although, if it's not too much to ask... Can I drive?"

That succeeded in getting a laugh out of him, and Walter stepped to the side to allow me passage around the front of the vehicle to the driver's side. We both slid into the sedan at the same time, and our doors snapped shut in unison. My duffel bag I tossed into the back seat, where it landed next to an almost identical one that I assumed belonged to Agent Gudbrand. "So," he asked as he handed the key in my direction. "Where are we headed first?"

"Home," I said decisively. "Let's see if our missing powerhouse took a stroll down memory lane right before he scampered." The key turned in the ignition, and the sedan pulled out from the curb. The engine purred beneath my feet, the vibration rising and settling with coiled anticipation in the pit of my stomach. I smiled slightly at the familiar feeling. It was time to go hunting.

* * *

_This is Wynn's view on the events that occured. For the full story, read Gabriel 12345's 'Heroes: Hunted'._

_Collaboration is kind of a new concept for me, so I'd appreciate if you guys could let me know how it's going._

_Love it? Hate it? Drop me a line!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Well, that took a while :P_

* * *

"Honestly, what is with rich people and their large buildings as symbols of power?" I stared up the towering length of the luxury apartment building, all 200 glass enclosed floors of it. "Are they all compensating for something? Like, do all rich guys just have really small-"

"Ranvire!" Agent Gudbrand cut me off, his brisk and business-like tone unable to cover up for the fact that the tips of his ears were blushing red. "If you're going to behave so immaturely, I can leave you out in the car during this interrogation."

"It's not an interrogation, _partner_," I reminded him, the inflection of my tone drawing particular close attention to our partnership in this endeavour. "It's a conversation. A forceful, and admittedly unexpected conversation, but a conversation nonetheless. We need Robert's cooperation if we're ever going to track down his son."

"Intelligence says that Danny and his father aren't even on speaking terms, Gudbrand scoffed. "Why the hell would he go to his estranged father for help?" I chuckled quietly, darkly, and Gudbrand looked confused. "What?"

"Let me guess; life at home was good, but you felt smothered, so you left and now you never see your family except for holidays?" Gudbrand didn't say anything, but that was answer enough for me. "It's different for those of us who grew up without parents."

"Different how? Logically, Danny should hate the man who practically abandoned him and his mother."

"He might hate him, but he's still Danny's father," I countered. "When you have no one, family is really all that matters..." Gudbrand continued looking confused, and I sighed. "Never mind. You carrying?"

"I thought this was just a conversation." Wry grimace back in place, Gudbrand's hand shifted to hi thigh, where I knew he had at least one service weapon strapped. I smiled.

"Never can be too prepared, I say. Robert's an important man, with friends in high places, but if we have to force his cooperation, then we will." Gudbrand looked a little too enthusiastic about that prospect for my liking. "Only if absolutely necessary, Walter. I won't condone any violence if it's not needed. And you do not want to get on my bad side."

That did it; Walter paled slightly, and nodded. His hand slipped off of his weapon, retreating into his pocket. I smiled at him, a little too innocently. "Ready to brave this phallic symbol of wealth and power?" Not waiting for a response, I entered the building, smile growing wider as the sliding doors hissed open and Gudbrand was left standing dumbstruck on the curb.

* * *

I hated elevator music. Like, with a passion. In my mind, nothing could be more infuriating than the too-cheerful sounds of some schmuck playing a jazz cover of 80's classic rock. Coupled with Gudbrand standing coiled to pounce beside me, practically itching for a fight, and I was ready to turn the whole metal contraption into ball bearings. I could do it, too. When the elevator at the Company had broken and it was taking too long to properly repair, I simply eliminated the old one. No one thanked me for that, but they didn't complain at the shiny new design, either.

Mercifully, the ride was short, despite Robert McKniel's ownership of the top level penthouse. The elevator didn't even open into a hall on his floor; rather, Gudbrand and I were greeted with an illustriously decorated foyer and a beautiful wall to wall view of the city-scape. I was not impressed.

"What's the deal with wall to wall windows, anyways? Who wants everyone looking in on what they're doing?"

"The purpose, so I'm told, is not to have everyone looking in." The deep bass tones echoing from behind made me jump slightly before I collected myself. I turned to stare up into the deep green eyes of Robert McKniel. His clean shaven mouth was quirked into a smile as he continued. "Rather, the purpose is to allow you the chance to look out."

"Maybe I'm just paranoid, but I still feel like everyone is looking in on me," I countered. "I suppose that kind of spotlight just isn't for everyone, is it?" From the corner of my eye, I caught Gudbrand's sidelong glare. _I thought we were here to be civil, _it warned me. Robert McKniel just laughed.

"I would expect nothing less from a trained Company Agent." I mock curtseyed. "And you're partner?" Beside me, Gudbrand spluttered indignantly.

"This is highly classified information... How do you even know about the Company, and-"

"You have no idea who you are speaking to, do you?" Robert sighed dramatically. "A pity. I thought at least they might someone important after me, someone with security clearance."

"Friends in high places," I muttered as a reminder. Gudbrand frowned, but I took Robert's words in stride. "Sorry to disappoint again, Mr. McKniel, but we're aren't here for you."

"It's Danny, isn't it?" When I nodded, Robert did not look in the least bit surprised. "What mess has the boy gotten himself into this time? If it was bad enough to land him on Company radar, I'm not sure I even want to know..."

"Has he contacted you at all, Mr. McKniel?" Gudbrand piped up. Robert simply shook his head, crossing the foyer to plop himself down on one of the steely gray sofas that lined the walls. From the jacket pocket of his pressed suit, he withdrew a silvered flask.

"Why should he? I haven't spoken to the boy for nearly a year. Not since he ran out of this penthouse." Robert sighed, unscrewing the lid of his flask and taking a swig. I watched his movements carefully, tracking he rise and fall of the glass. Robert caught my stare and extended his booze towards me, screwing the lid back on at the same time. I shrugged, and suddenly the flask was hurtling through the air towards my head. A slight twitch of my fingers, and the silver shifted so that its trajectory was now aimed at my outstretched hand.

"He ran out on you. Why?" The flask was filled with scotch, more expensive than any I'd ever tasted, and it both soothed and burned as it slid down my throat. I returned the glass without even bothering to offer some in Gudbrand's direction.

"It's rather a long story. I'm not sure you quite have the time, and I do have a meeting I need to get to soon..." Robert's voice trailed away.

"The short version, then, if you-"

"We have time." I could feel Gudbrand's fierce stare at my interruption, but I ignored it. "Tell me exactly what happened. From the beginning, if you please. Or even if you don't."

"It doesn't sound like I have much of a choice now, does it?" Robert's smile was wry as he took another swig of scotch. He paused a moment, smacking his lips thoughtfully. "From the very beginning, you say? That takes me back almost twenty years ago, to the roof of the Empire State Building. I was a lawyer for the Petrelli firm, an up and rising within the business. She was on assignment, although I didn't know what for at that time..."

"Marie," I stated simply, ignoring the pain that name caused me. "Your wife."

"Never my wife," Robert was quick to correct me. "What we had was brief, albeit passionate and committed, based on a skewed affection for the city and all of its inhabitants. I thought I might love her, and she trusted me – I suppose that was all I could ask from a Company agent. I thought she trusted me... And then one day, she was simply gone. She had left me."

"You were never given a reason?" I asked. Hearing this side of the story made it sound incredibly different. As a child, Marie would always sit down beside me in the mess and tell me stories of her past. In her version, Robert was the one who left her. 'He wanted a legacy, not a child,' Marie always told me. I always believed her.

"Never. I didn't even know she had been pregnant until Danny showed up on my doorstep 3 years ago." Was he lying? I couldn't tell; either it was a very practised lie, or he was actually an honest lawyer. Who knew? "I wouldn't have believed him, but... He looked like her. He even talked like her, and he moved like her – although minus a lot of the same grace. This boy was beat up and broken, wild and searching for his lost father."

"And you took him in?" Gudbrand's mouth twitched downwards.

"He was my son." Robert's tone was offended. "I took him in, and I cleaned him up. I made him respectable. He had a record – shoplifting, assault... he even had ties to gang violence! I made it all go away for him. I knew that he'd had troubles – his mother dead, never knowing his father, but I saw that I could make something great out of him. I could turn him into a gentleman."

"If you made him such a gentleman, what went wrong?" I demanded. "If you thought you could change your son for the better, and succeeded, how did he end up walking out your door and right into the hands of the Company?" My voice has risen in volume; in contrast, Robert had seemed to fall inward on himself. But there was a smile on his face; faint, but still present.

"He was only 5 when his abilities first manifested." There was pride on Robert's voice, and belaying that: fear. "He told me that about a year ago, just before he left. Empathic Mimicry. He could take in anyone's power, an unlimited host of powers! It was incredible!" Another drink, this time a long, exaggerated pull from the silvered flask. "It was also dangerous. Powers like that... they can't be left uncontrolled. My mentor taught me that – you have to reign them in, secure them, until they can be used properly."

"So, you called the Company on your own son?" I hid the contempt in my voice behind a mask of indifference. I had heard the long spiel about the need to control dangerous powers – I'd been subject to it ever since my abilities had fully manifested. Suddenly, I felt a rush of sympathy towards the boy I was hunting; I could at least understand why he had run. But I didn't entirely disagree with his father's standpoint, either.

"They came for him almost as soon as I called. I tried to explain to Danny, I tried to make him see that it was necessary." Robert's face had the look of a man who had defended his actions a few too many times. "But Danny wouldn't listen. He escaped their custody, and he went back on the run. I haven't seen him since then."

"But you know where he might go."

There it was, that unspoken accusation hanging in the air between the three of us. Gudbrand looked astonished and grudgingly impressed, Robert shocked, and myself... I was determined. "Are you insinuating that I am hiding my son's location from the authorities of the Company?" The defensive tone had returned, and Robert was standing. "I can assure you-"

"I never insinuated anything," I cut him off quickly. "I know that you don't know where Danny is. Even if you did know, you would tell us. But-" Again, I cut of Robert as he opened his mouth to interrupt. "He is your son, you have to know him. You must have gone through his entire life when he first came to you, just to be certain. Did he have any friends? Common hangouts? Anyplace where he might be tempted to visit."

"Nothing stand out in my mind, but-"

"What about where he and Marie lived?" I demanded. "All I need is a possession of his, something, anything that can allow me to access his life and his memories. Can you give me that?" Robert was momentarily baffled. Then he seemed to collect himself.

"Psychometry..." I didn't verbally confirm his statement, merely nodded. "So, you're a tracker."

"I'm the best." My tone wasn't boastful or even proud, it was blunt and honest. "I can find anyone, Mr McKniel, and right now my job is to find your son. Whether he wants to be found or not. So, are you going to help me do my job, or do I need to call in my superiors?"

"Are you sure you've thought this through?" Returning to his seat on the sofa, Robert steepled his hands in my direction. "I don't question your abilities, Agent... merely your judgment. As you put it, I know my son. And I know that all of his records and stints in juvenile detention, as well as his reaction to my calling the Company, point to the fact that Danny has quite the temper. If you really intend on taking him in, you're going to have one hell of a fight on your hands."

I simply grinned. "I wouldn't want it to be too easy." There was a pause, during which Robert studied up and down. Eventually, he sighed.

"Brooklyn. Marie and Danny used to have a little house in Brooklyn. I don't know if he'd ever go back there, but the place is a rent controlled Company property, used for Agents on assignment, on very rare occasions. They probably haven't even bothered to clean out most of Marie's old stuff. If Danny had any possessions to his name, they'd be there."

"The address?"

Robert had already withdrawn his cell phone, quickly keying an address into MapQuest. He turned the screen for Gudbrand and I to see, and I made quick work of memorizing the house number, street name, and even the tiny photographic image of the small Brooklyn house.

"Well, then." I clapped my hands together and smiled. "We thank you. Mr. McKniel, for your cooperation." Gudbrand had already turned and was on his way back to the elevator. I mock bowed before retreating after him, when Robert spoke from behind me.

"Danny is dangerous, and he needs to be contained, but... he is my son." I turned: Robert was on his feet again, standing with his back straight and his expression defiant. I was almost impressed. "Will you promise me that you won't hurt my boy?"

"I promise," I said quickly. Behind me, Gudbrand hissed. "At least, no more than it would seem you already have." Now that I had the information I needed, masking my scorn was no longer entirely necessary. "All Danny wanted was a father, you know. Someone to love him the way he was; not completely redesign him and then abandon him when things didn't work out." The flask in Robert's hand clattered against the floor.

"I did what was right for my son!"

"You did what was right for you. And now, Danny may never forgive you." I directed my anger towards the flask lying on the ground. The metal fell limp, morphing into liquid. I twisted my hand, and it shifted and reformed, levitating into the air at eye level. It solidified and reformed into a sharp, dagger-like shard of silvered metal. "Some wounds take longer to heal. You should know that more than anyone." I turned and entered the elevator, leaving Robert alone, with the dagger in his hands. There was an awkward silence in the elevator, during which I could feel Gudbrand's eyes on me, partially fearful, and partially impressed.

"Umm..." His voice broke the silence. "That was impressive. Also unnecessary, but impressive. Weren't we just there to converse? Because I distinctly remember you said something about not threatening, and"

"You remember the address?" I cut Gudbrand off. He shut his mouth, mercifully, and nodded. "Good. It's time we finally started hunting."

* * *

_As always, check out Heroes: Hunted for Dany's POV of these and other events._

_Seriously. DO IT!_

_Love it? Hate it? Drop me a line!_


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